Friday, December 5, 2008

Extra-Ordinary: From Publicity to P-Fars

A number of people have pointed out that I received a favorable mention on Lance Armstrong's Twitter. (Or, as he's referred to by non-cycling Americans, "The guy from all the bike riding.")

While I appreciated the nod, I'm also the sort of person who can extract negativity from anything. (Hand me a suitcase full of money and I'll complain about how heavy it is. "You expect me to schlep this all the way to the bank?!?") If you're unfamiliar with Twitter, it only allows for entries of 140 letters or less, so it strikes me as odd that, with words at such a premium, Armstrong should still feel the need to squander them with use of the word "Maybe." Also, after he mentioned me, I checked back and was dismayed to find this:

If Armstrong can't even tell a serious site from a comedic one, does it really mean anything that he thinks mine is funny? Talk about damning with faint praise! Sure, Rapha did kill with that "tweed softshell" bit, but still.

Even so, this didn't prevent me from enjoying his Twitter feed. It's rare that you get so much insight into the life of a public figure, and he should be applauded for his candor. I mean, he even tells you when the drug testers come--which is pretty often. Actually, at this point Armstrong just urinates involuntarily whenever the doorbell rings. (It's a great way to embarrass him at parties.) I was also surprised at how similar his life is to mine, as you can see from this entry:

That is so wild! I also have a longtime Polish soigneur, and I totally crank up the Sufjan when he massages me. (My soigneur's name is Thadeusz, though. He has the hands of an angel--or at least the hands of an angel who has Hormel hams for hands.) Get out of my head, Armstrong. Get out of my head!

Moving on, yesterday's post included a photo of Madonna on a road bike like 20 years ago, and since then speculation as to the identity of her training partner has run rampant. (And by "run rampant" I of course mean that one or two people wondered who it is.) Well, one reader in Canada (or "Canadia" if you prefer) postulates that it may be none other than "Canadian Track Great Curt Harnett," based on this revealing photo:

Well, the hair is certainly a match, and the reader points out that both riders are sporting Canadian national team colors on their shorts, but the cyclist with Madonna has the spindly legs of a pure climber and not the bulky legs of a trackie. I guess we may never know. Then again, that photo is pretty old, so if by some chance they spawned it may be worth watching the velodromes of the Great White North for any up-and-coming track racers with a penchant for both mullets and g-strings.

But as much as I'd like to avoid reality by obsessing over the sexual dalliances of celebrities, the fact is there are much more serious matters in the world of cycling that need to be addressed, and I for one cannot in good conscience sit idly by. I received a shocking email recently in which a reader told a tragic tale of arriving at a bike rack designed to accommodate multiple bikes, only to find that a greedy rider had taken up the whole thing with one single wretched Huffy:

I've taking the liberty of annotating the reader's photo, in which irony abounds. We've often seen expensive bikes locked up poorly, yet here is a bicycle that arguably nobody in his or her right mind would covet that has been secured with two U-locks. The rider has even made sure to lock up both wheels, much to the chagrin of anybody looking for a steel-rimmed Schraeder valve wheelset with a gigantic pie plate. I'm guessing the only reason the highly-desireable comfort saddle isn't locked up too is that the seatpost became permanently stuck in the frame way back when Madonna used to ride (with) Curt Harnett.

So I'd just like to take this opportunity to say that we, as a community of cyclists, should not tolerate the craven act of bike rack-hogging. (Or bike rock-hagging, which is what Curt Harnett was doing with Madonna.) Nor should we tolerate the stupid act of failing to lock your bike altogether:

And, perhaps most importantly, we need to take a strong stand against leaving frame size stickers on seat tubes. This is the bicycle equivalent of letting the tag stick up out of the collar of your t-shirt. Nobody cares what size your BILF t-shirt is, and nobody cares what size bike you ride. This particular example is especially disconcerting, because the rider has actually gone throught the trouble of adding additional stickers, yet still couldn't even be bothered to remove the size sticker. And that's like standing there with your fly open and straightening your tie.

Rumor has it that Dunlavy has already been approached by Michael Ball, who has apparently offered him a spot on Rock Racing's 2009 roster. Ball wouldn't confirm or deny this, though he did acknowledge that "Dunlavy has the agressive attitude and the extensive palmolives we look for in a rider." I would have pressed him further, but the egg timer he uses to limit the duration of his interviews popped and that was that.

Finally, the p-far trend has officially moved into its "being sold at exorbitant prices on Craigslist" phase, as you can see from this listing:

I'll be the first to admit that this p-far is mad old-timey, yo, but I still think the $8,000 price tag is excessive--especially since it probably retailed for nineteen cents back in 1888. Still, it's a fine ride, and it even appears to have an integrated headset. (At least I don't see any headset cups.) Personally, the first thing I'd do is remove the brake, which is that thing on the front that looks like a shoehorn. I wouldn't want some gentleman to question my mettle, lest I be forced to challenge him to a duel. (In which case I'd slap him with my Knog love/hate glove.)

If your tastes run more toward the modern, you doubtless covet this new-school ride, spotted by a reader in Des Moines:

I'm especially "feeling" the lantern on the front. If Dustin Dunlavy had had a light like that, the whole unfortunate incident would have been averted. Also, if Knog Frogs are hipster cysts, then this bike has a serious case of "dandy rheumatism."

But as trendy as the old-fashioned rides are, it's important to keep looking towards the future. And no company is more forward-looking than BMC. One reader even forwarded me this photo of a BMC p-far prototype:

last night me and my friends jimmy bob joe bob billy bob and ricky rode around shooting them damm inflatable santas with our bb guns and billy bob told ricky that he was going to gut and field dress rodulf the red assed raindeer and ricky laughed so hard that he pooped on hisself i aint lying it was that funny

And on the international front, Canada's newly-elected prime minister has dissolved Parliament. Hoardes of angry protesters have formed an orderly queue on the sidewalk. Wasn't that our very own Commiecanuck front-and-center in the BBC Canada feed?

My problem with stickers on bikes is that my bikes tends to be where scrubby things are not, so I spend about 15 seconds picking at the sticker with my fingernail and then give up. I repeat this about every three months. My main bike still has the seat tube AND "read the manual" sticker on it after a year and a half. Should I feel ashamed? Maybe, but I don't.

I never saw an answer to the question about bubuska versus bubusha, but I have another:

Wouldn't a sentence ending in "...sit idly by." be guilty of ending in a preposition? If not why not, and if so, how could this be bettered?

Thank you. And I know Snob thanks you too, as I know he is a concerned, even fastidious, writer and grammarian (grammatician?), as anyone who writes for a living and puts out his blog on his lunch break and then obsessively checks the comments for grammar corrections would be.

Is that a California sticker on that unlocked bike? Oh man. California always looks so bad on this blog. I was going to say, 'Why do you always make CA look bad?' Then I realized that I already knew the answer.

On account of today's post I'm compelled to make my confession of being a dumby:

A couple weeks ago I stepped out of the office mid-morning to get coffee and noticed that while I had dutifully locked my bike's seat and back wheel to the frame (with my flimsy cable lock--a formality, really), the U-lock was still nestled in it's holster, and the bike was just leaning against the pole. Fortunately bike thieves seem to be scarce in this part of midtown, and the ones that are lurking must not have the dedication to carry away or clip the cable on an old boat anchor like my commuter.

Maybe somebody can clarify: is forgetting to lock up more pathetic than attempting to lock the bike but missing?

That "lantern" on the front of the bike near the end looks more like a carbide lamp, as used for mining, etc. They're actually pretty bright, and would most likely make a decent, if somewhat maintenance-intensive light.

come on!!! what tool leaves retard stickers on their pride and joy...unless your bicycle is not your pride and joy and you couldn't give a shit what it says about you. I see stupid stickers on bikes it tells me your not a serious cyclist..just a fad cyclist

Shooting inflatable Santas and painting penises on Baby Jesii are pretty much the only things to do around here at Chrismastime.It's a shame if Lance Armstrong doesn't read the comments. Fifty percent of the time, 20% of the comments are funnier than the post. For example "...eating lunch with a guy who never heard of cancer, the work seems endless..."

hey anonymous 1104 we dont ride around we bike around we all dress in black and dont use no lights and we look like a bunch of ninjas we can drill santa and hi tail it and no one hears us and ricky tolt billy bob that if they had a tandem we woodnt even have to stop but jimmy bob and joe bob and me said that tandem bikes were for fags and canadians and that put an end to that

its christmas after all we draw the line at some things like painting dirty stuff is just bad and it aint funny

when it comes to lites when ricky asks for a match i tells him yeah, yor face and my ass and he falls for it ever time because ricky is a dummass

"Commenting"is a function where one leaves 'comments', you christing desperate whore-children.

Podium? Ant1st? Geeziz - and then arguing about double posts not counting etc etc. Do we not have lives, motherfuckers? Does one not have something better to do than sit there, mouse finger on the ready to be the very first motherfucker to leave their shit stain in the comments section, without really saying anything? The first 30 comments are all about being on the podium or not being on the podium, but one really should be top three cos one other fucktard got there before one and 'commented' twice, once with a wistful, i was a battered child exclamation, and then the second time to truly confirm one is indeed a troll with fuckall better to do than to leave empty one word messages on a blog site. To be first mind you. In the comments section. On a blog site.

Why does something so infantile get up my skirt so badly? Fucking blue mondays

What other actions/games people play that do not affect you in the least piss you off? I want to make sure I'm not potentially offending you by doing things I do everyday, like trying to make a 3 pointer everytime I throw a piece of paper away while at work.

I also admire your ability to judge people based on a little game they like to play while sitting at work. Is your life so devoid of joy and happiness that you have to go off on random strangers just because they don't appear to be as miserable as you, viewed from the tiny window you have onto a single aspect of their lives? My dad beat me, that's what you can tell by my use of an exclamation point, Sigmund? What should I make of your use of a lower case i? Your dad kept you in the basement where he and his friends would have NAMBLA nights at your expense? That when you finally did escape, you where left unable to tolerate joy in others?

I could go on and on, but I've got to drop everything I'm doing so that I don't miss my chance to piss you off with today's comment race. It's the only thing I live for, if you can call it living, so I'd hate to miss it. Got my refresh finger all lubed up.

The town you mention is where I got the nick name "leroy." I consider myself lucky. It could have been worse; it could have been "Bubba".

I lived there for a little bit. I still go back often and bring a bike. (I love the smell of Georgia asphalt in August. It smells like ... well, I'm not exactly sure what, but if your training regime includes hurling, it's a handy smell.)

My experience is that it's not a bad place to ride (unless you want to climb) and has a couple of good LBSs.

Strange, huh? You would think the paradise of NYC's Second Avenue Bike Lane would make all other experiences pale in comparison.

But I'm not sure I would take on the Truman Parkway -- although I hear there is a fast paced weekly ride along part of it (after rush hour, of course).

Leroy - It's an awesome town. My friends and I have been riding our bikes from atlanta down to savannah for the last couple of years. Great ride, except for the rain this year. As far as riding in and around, I'm pretty clueless since by the time we get down there, all I want to do is get to the hotel as fast as possible and take a nice long hot shower with my lubed up finger. After which I don't want to see a bike for the next week.

It's a lame routine for the uninterested. Like I find new issues of seventeen magazine lame. That's why I don't read it, nor complain about those who do. The fact that they exist, however, does not piss me off in the least. When I'm looking at a magazine rack and see mags I don't care about, I don't go complain to the store manager. The rack is there to please as many people as possible, like this comment section is there for everyone to comment.

No, by my logic you're one of those people that's always complaining about things, no matter how trivial they may be, or how unaffected they may leave you. You also seem to be one of those people who likes to talk shit about what other people enjoy, just because you find it lame, and anyone who sees it differently is obviously an idiot.

And what do you do for a living that allows you to look down upon mere magazine publishers?

http://www.fixedgeargallery.com/2008/dec/1/LorenSjostrom.htmNot all things found on the side of the road dead should be brought back to life. Cue The Ramones "I don't want to be buried in a bike cemetary"

By the time I come in to work, all the podiumeers have long been there, so I don't get to hear their triumphant "podium!"s. I don't get pissed at the monday morning college football talk though. Or the college basketball talk, which is something I don't care about, unlike football.

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Out of curiosity, what purpose do the shifters serve on the bmc penny farthing? Unless they managed to hub gear the wheel, but that would only need one, not two shifters.Besides, having the driving wheel turn under your feet when you are trying to pedal it would be really bad. If they wanted to really make a faster penny farthing, then they need to rip off the star safety bicycle

About Me

While I love cycling and embrace it in all its forms, I'm also extremely critical. So I present to you my venting for your amusement and betterment. No offense meant to the critiqued. Always keep riding!